Look in the Mirror
by Ladyamesindy
Summary: Deeply entrenched in N7 training, James Vega finds support in memories of his mentor.


Bone-tired, mental, physical, emotional exhaustion. How many days had it been? How long since arriving and being designated N-0?

However long it had been, he'd made it through the first stage, been tagged to continue on. Little successes as the program continued. Challenges became more difficult. Finding the 'right solution' was a little tougher, sometimes downright nerve-wracking given his past. He found himself surrounded by others who had similar if not more experience in the field than he'd had, hell some had even been in the resistance against the Reapers. How did one do better than that? Made his war experience seem like a cakewalk by comparison. Yet, he found a way. And whenever things got just a little too tough, he just found himself thinking: _What would Shepard do?_

It helped. Especially that first month when sleep was such a rarity that by the time they'd earned the right to have it, it was like a stranger you couldn't quite decide if you could trust. The kind you meet in a dark alley - could go either way, good or bad, until finally you just said 'fuck it' and crashed, the dreams kept at bay because … well, hell, even _they_ were tired beyond belief.

Each level of training was tougher. Made sense. It wasn't a gimme, by any means. But hell, after what he'd seen during the war, yeah … it was still tough, but not so bad really. Just another mission on Menae or maybe Cronos, right? Or was there something he was missing? Yeah, he'd served with Shepard, he'd seen shit most of these people probably hadn't. But the reverse was true too, no?

He knew he got looks sometimes. Some were aware he'd served with Shepard. One guy he remembered from London before that last battle and he couldn't keep his mouth shut about it. James would look into the eyes of his fellow trainees and could almost read the awe that was there. The questions they wanted to ask but never did. He could have basked in it, allowed it to go to his head, but hell … in his own mind, he was still too in awe of her and what she'd accomplished too. What would be the point?

Weeks, months of training. Never an end in sight. Exhaustion became something foreign. Not because he was able to get more sleep, but because there simply was no time for it. He trained. He studied. He did what he needed to do. Whenever it became too tough, he just thought about her and what she would have done. It helped.

He'd told her he'd keep her updated, but truth was it was hard to find the time. She must have known, though. She'd been through this herself. When you weren't working your ass off training, studying, out on missions and the like, you were sleeping. By the time nightly mail call came (which really meant they unblocked access for their omni-tools for a period of five minutes), it was hard to care. It didn't surprise him that he had none anyway.

He learned things … and then some more. The physical stuff, that was easy for the most part. Anything requiring muscle or stamina, yeah, he had that down pretty good. What fine tuning he'd needed had come at the hands of the Reapers, so okay. Studying? Okay, he liked reading well enough. Some of the stuff made sense. Though he had to laugh sometimes just at the insanity of it all. No one else got the joke of course. _Alien biology and physiology? He'd served with turians, krogans, quarians and more. If he hadn't learned how to patch it up then, he probably wasn't ever going to._ Some areas were harder. But in the end, he reminded himself daily - _Shepard did this. I can too._ It helped.

But there was still something he was missing. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that, as he neared the final stage of his training, began eating away at him. What was it he was missing? It almost became a fixation. His instructors noticed too, but said nothing to him about it. Part of the test to pass, right? How you deal with things. How you let it affect you and your decision making skills. _Shepard, what would you do?_

But it was there. Night before his final mission, it was gnawing away at him so bad, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep at all. Strangely enough, it had been an early night. Plenty of time for sleep. And yet ….

Tossing and turning, he flopped onto his back as the soft buzz of his omni tool caught his attention. Frowning, he glanced down to see the time. Mail call. That was a surprise. He pressed the button, wondering briefly if his uncle was ….

_Look in the mirror._

He blinked. No name. No origin. No nothing. "What the hell …?" he muttered, but he rose from his bunk and padded over to the mirror to follow the instruction.

Eyes lifting to stare at the reflection of the battle scarred visage there, it suddenly hit him. That discussion nearly a year ago now. The one where she'd pointed it out to him as plain as could be. _The only person you need to prove yourself to is the one staring in the mirror every morning._ His first lesson and he'd nearly forgotten it.

Reaching for the omni tool, he typed quickly and hit send. She'd done it again. _Thanks for the pep talk, Lola._

Another long, hard look in the mirror and he was good. Landing heavily in his bunk a moment later, he wasn't surprised to find that sleep was a much easier assignment after that.


End file.
